Welcome to the Hotel Vernon!
by Sadie Lovegood
Summary: Another AU oneshot born of my perpetually pregnant plot bunny! Our Fab 5 in this AU are all foster wards for different reasons forced to live together under the roof of reluctant foster parents Dick and Petunia Vernon...


"**Welcome to the Hotel Vernon!"**

_**A/N: **A month ago, I was begging for a single idea from Mr. Plot Bunny…now he's puking in my lap constantly and I can't get him to stop. So here's another long one-shot from me…by far the most out-there one I've gotten, and I hope you enjoy and **review** it. I REALLY want to finish my chapter fics, but I suppose churning out one-shots on the side like an assembly line isn't a bad thing. I'm SURE this idea has never been used…and if it has, I'd like to meet the author, because odds are they are a past reincarnation of me. _

_**Summary: **AU. Five different kids are sent to the foster home of Mr. Richard and Mrs. Petunia Vernon for five different reasons to live indefinitely. How can a brain, a beauty, a basketcase, a jock, and a rebel learn to live together in a house run by a creepy man who just happens to be their high school's vice principal? This explores their first day of trying to do so. NOTE: This is NOT a retelling of TBC!!_

_**Rating: T-15 for angst, swearing, and other stuff you'll learn to love!

* * *

**_

_"So, how many of them are coming?" Richard Vernon asked dusting off the coffee table in the den. Petunia Vernon smiled to herself, trying to recall what the lady on the phone said._

_"I think five," she said. Richard rolled his eyes. He hated his life ever since Petunia's only child with him was stillborn, and to make up for lack of children, decided to open up the large Victorian house the Vernons lived in as a home for foster children. The house was indeed large enough, with a basement and sub-basement, along with a huge attic, and two floors in between, all rooms were large and nicely furnished. Petunia was a weekend homemaker, and ran a florist shop during the week, which happened to be the only shop in town, and therefore, was very successful. Richard was a vice principal at the local high school. "They should be coming between 10 AM and 2 PM today," she finished. Petunia had the date circled on her calendar for weeks. It was March 24, 1984. At the time it was 9:13 AM, and she'd had her and her husband up cleaning the house since 7 AM._

_"Petunia, most childless couples like us spend the extra money traveling around the world and taking cruises, not opening up a damn hotel for orphans!"_

_"I don't think any of them are orphans, Richie," said Petunia. "None, actually. They are all temporary wards of the state…oh no, two of them are indefinite wards, but they all have parents. I just think their parents aren't good ones."_

_"I swear you said we were stopping this whole thing after that last bunch left!"_

_"Now Richie, we're helping those poor little cherubs in need!" Petunia arranged a vase of pink tulips on the long dining room table._

_"Are they all little kids like the last ones?" Richard shuddered. Having four eight-year old boys in the house wasn't a fun way to spend the winter._

_"Actually, no! They're all around the same age. All of them are 16 or 17," Petunia answered. Richard sighed. That was a good sign. Most teenagers went to their rooms and moped around yelling at everyone to leave them alone. What was so bad about five teenagers shutting themselves up all spring and summer?_

_"Alright, but promise you won't be telling them the honeymoon stories again? I swear, Michael Baxter is probably the only 8-year-old foster kid in Illinois who knows what foreplay is!"_

_"I think foster parents need to be honest with their wards, Richie!" Petunia reasoned. "To think, if Gloria survived she'd be 21 by now!" she sighed woefully, finishing the tulips and moving on to the placemats lined with pink lace and delicate sketches of rose vines. Richard nodded. He knew, despite his constant complaints, that this made his wife happy._

_"Let's just these kids know who's house they're guests in! Mess with Richard Vernon's house, and you mess with Richard Vernon!"_

* * *

_10:21 AM_

"I really don't think I belong here," said Claire Standish, sitting in small red car with the Social Service worker assigned to her, a short brunette man with a long nose. "My parents will settle the case soon and I'll be back where I belong…at home!"

"Claire, I know you're feeling upset by your parent's custody battle over you going to the state courts and being stalemated, but you're parent's fight could last as long a a year, and until then, the judge's decision to put you in a temporary foster home will keep you where you REALLY belong…OUT of the middle of the fight. You're 16! Here you can be a teenager and worry about your hair and clothes and whatever you want without worrying about your parents fighting over you!" the man explained.

Claire groaned. "But this isn't much better. Living with six strangers for a year won't be fun. I mean, they could solve their differences tomorrow for all we know!" Claire looked up at the large house. It was almost scary looking. An ivy vine enveloped the left side of it. Claire hated this. In high school, she was a princess. At home, she was a princess. Now she was being reduced to one step above orphan status. She was a temporary ward of the state. And she had to go to the same school. At least she could have been moved to a different district!

"Claire, I'll stop by once a week and give you news about your parents' custody battle, but I can guarantee that it will be going on for a while. Please try and make the best of this situation for now, okay?" asked the worker. Claire grunted, looking again up at the old building. She grabbed her three suitcases and walked up to the front door with the short man. _Here goes nothing…_

A woman answered the door; a wrinkly woman with platinum blonde hair answered the door, and immediately smiled.

"Hello there! I'm Petunia Vernon!"

For about a half hour, Petunia and the social worker talked, while Claire was instructed by the husband, who coincidentally was her school's vice principal, to find a room, and which rooms were available. Claire walked up the long staircase to the second floor. She didn't want the sub-basement or the attic. Instead she chose the last room on the left, which seemed the biggest of the available rooms. It had a bay window facing the street, and a neatly made bed facing an armoire. Claire had never felt so alone…so vulnerable before. Instead of unpacking, she flopped herself on the bed and began crying.

She wanted to be alone.

* * *

_12:10 PM_

"Here we are!" said the plump, jolly social worker dropping off Brian Johnson in front of the large Victorian Vernon house. "9832 Rosebud Path, home of your new foster parents!"

"I have parents, Miss Larson" Brian said meekly.

"They're under investigation," said Miss. Larson.

"I know, but once the police find out the gun was part of an emergency trunk, I'll be free to go home," Brian said, wishing he was smart in forensic science, and not math and computers.

"They don't like the fact that a flare gun was so easily put in the hands of the Johnson's 16 year old son!"

"I was wrong, I should never have taken the gun to school, I got an after-school suspension for it! Please, I don't see why I can't live at home!"

"Because it's against the state law to keep firearms unlocked in the house, especially when you and your sister could get your hands on it!"

Brian bit his lip. Then how come Jessie got to stay at home? Maybe it was because SHE wasn't trying to show off a gun in her school…to make her seem like she wasn't a defenseless geek. Brian thought about this and grabbed his small suitcase and walked with Mrs. Larson up to the door. Brian tried to hold back tears. He couldn't remember more than the couple, his vice principal from school and his sugary-sweet wife. He was too afraid to be there. Being a ward of the state because his parents were being investigated for firearms possession wasn't a good situation. Brian was told to find a room. He chose a room on the second floor, across from the master bedroom. The room was neatly cleaned. Brian had a small window overlooking the backyard. He sighed slowly to himself and began unpacking.

He thought he heard crying sounds coming from down the hall, but he ignored it. He was afraid he'd be the next one crying.

* * *

_1:02 PM_

"You're gonna STAY in this one, okay?" said the blonde social worker with a double chin, who looked exasperated with his ward already. John Bender was slumped down in the seat, growling under his breath.

"Yeah, shove it," he said, biting a nail off his thumb.

"Look, you've been in the system a year now. You're parents are gonna be in jail for abusing you for another 9 years minimum. You've got one more year, then you're 18 and out of the system, okay? But until then, deal with it! Four others will be living with you, okay? And I can guarantee you none of the other four will appreciate you smoking marijuana and bringing girls into the house at 3 AM!"

"Whatever," grunted Bender.

"You've gone through 16 homes in a year! I'm NOT getting another call from your foster father saying his wife's in a mental hospital because you drove her insane!" said the social worker.

Bender flipped him off and leapt out of the car before the asshole could follow him, taking his pillowcase full of clothes with him. He was glad when the social worker drove away without following him up to the door. Bender smacked his fist three times on the door. This time, it was Richard who answered the door. One look at each other and both sets of eyes went wide.

"You!" said Richard. It couldn't be John Bender! He was the prick who sat in detention every Saturday for various crimes against humanity…educational humanity. Richard hated him, and he was pretty sure Bender hated him back.

"You!" Bender mocked.

"Take a room, don't make a scene. You might as well wait until everyone else gets here!" Richard scoffed. Bender wanted to run out right there. "There's an attic, a sub-basement, and a few room on the second floor. Choose one and stay there until dinner, and if I smell drugs, you're gonna be scrubbing the toilet with your toothbrush, got it?"

"Nice to see you too, Dick!" Bender hissed, making his way towards the stairs that led down. The sub-basement sounded like a nice isolated spot.

For now, anyways.

* * *

_1:17 PM_

"How long do I have to be here?" asked Andy Clark, gripping his duffel bag. This was a place for losers. Andy wasn't an orphan, nor was he a ward of the state. His father's horrendous outburst after him losing the National High School Wrestling Meet title had been called in as abuse by a neighbor. It was a mistake, but the miserable American system ran at a snail's pace. Andy's father was awaiting trial for child abuse…and he was innocent. Until proven so by a jury, Andy had to be put in foster care. Andy knew it wasn't permanent. He was 17, after all. But it was what the judge said had to be done, and Andy wanted to get it over with as little fight as possible.

"Your father doesn't go to trial until May 1st, Andrew," said the soft-spoken social worker woman. "Today, even the simplest trials take months. It may be awhile," she said. Andy sighed woefully. This sucked so hard. It humbled him, and being humbled wasn't something Andrew Jason Clark was used to.

Andy nodded and allowed the woman to escort him up to the door, where it was opened by the wife of the house.

"Hello, you must be Andrew! Our fourth arrival! I'm Mrs. Vernon, oh, but do call me Petunia!" she said, eagerly introducing herself. Andy was crept out by her sweetness. The name: Vernon. It struck a bell. "There's still a room on the second floor available. The others are still settling in, and we're still waiting on one more. We'll call you down to supper and then we can all get acquainted. I need to have a word with the lady who brought you," she said, pointing to the stairwell. Andy dragged his duffel bag up the stairs and found the available room. One of the doors was opened, and a shrimp-like nerdy boy who was busy packing things in a dresser, stood up and glared. Andrew, feeling inferior, quickly dashed into the empty room and shut the door, humiliated.

* * *

_1:52 PM_

"Are you ready to meet your new foster parents, Allison?"

Allison squeaked. The man driving the car nodded and put the car in park. Allison looked at her scuffed black Chuck Taylors. She hated this. She was 17 year old going into her 5th foster care home in 3 years. Why now? She felt better off in a house where no one cared about her and she had the world to herself. She didn't want people to feel sorry for her. Allison hated this routine. Her neighbor had walked into the house one day, and upon observing the situation, reported child neglect to the police on Allison's behalf. Allison had been feeding herself since she could practically hold a spoon. She'd been stealing money from her mother's purse so she could buy clothes and school supplies. It's not that her parents were mean. Allison had been the product of a one-nighter in a frat house and her parents saw her as the only reason they weren't perpetually tanning on a beach in Aruba. Allison was quickly declared an indefinite ward of the state at fourteen. Every foster home had a bunch of whiny little kids in it, and Allison was always the babysitter who was conveniently there for the foster parents. It was an endless cycle for her. She didn't see how different this house could be. She only had 7 months left in the system anyway. Then she planned to get a flat back east and never come back to Shermer, where all her miserable memories lied.

Allison silently took her suitcase and walked with her social services advisor up to the front door. A scowling man opened the door, making Allison jump back. Her high school vice principal. How wonderful. Was Al Capone going to be her next foster father?

To make herself seem like she didn't want to make waves, Allison lowered her head and stared at the floor. Richard hollered, "PeTUUUUnia! The last one's here!"

"Petunia" must have been his wife. When she shuffled into the foyer to meet Allison, Allison felt like she was looking into the face of Barbie aged 40 years. Allison let out a small squeak.

"Oh, aren't you the cutest little thing to ever wear…black," muttered Petunia, looking over Allison's completely black (if not a little frumpy) ensemble. Allison slurped back a wad of spit gathering in the front of her mouth loudly enough for everyone to jump back. Richard looked like Freddy Kruger had walked into his home.

"There are a few things we need to discuss," said the social worker 'delivering' Allison. Petunia put her clammy hand on Allison's shoulder.

"The rooms are taken, but the attic is still warm and roomy if you want to go up. Supper will be in a few hours, and then we'll all go down to the family room and get better acquainted! We'll be one big family!"

Allison headed up the stairs and walked slowly down the hall towards the end of the hall where the second set of stairs lied. One of the doors was shut tight. One was open a crack. One was wide open. Allison peeked in the crack of the one that was slightly open. All she could see was a body with a mop of red hair sobbing on the bed, a huge mess in pink. Allison turned around and saw the open door. A tall boy with a lanky figure and an odd set of clothes was thumbing through a schoolbook. He seemed to have been there a long time…and he looked like he could be her age. He looked up and studied Allison a moment. Allison blew her bangs out of her face and moved on past the shut door and up the stairs to the attic.

The attic was actually much bigger than any of the other three rooms, and nicer, more private. It had a neatly made bed and a big closet in the corner. A full length free-standing mirror was in the opposite corner, near a bay window. Allison ran over to the window and looked out. It was a nice view above the roofs of the suburb. The Chicago skyline was off in the distance…it must be so beautiful lit up at night! Allison couldn't wait until nightfall, when she could see the horizon lit up.

* * *

_4:30 PM_

"I hope they're not expecting this kind of feast every night," Richard snarled as Petunia finished laying the steaming turkey on the table next to the potatoes, to the left of the rice pilaf.

"It's their first night here, Richie!" said Petunia. "I have a pound cake and peppermint stick ice cream in the ice box for later in the family room, too!" she said.

"I can't believe I have five students from my school in this house LIVING with me!"

"They go to your school? How wonderful, you know them already!" said Petunia. Richard shuddered.

"NO! Well…a few of them I don't know…but Petunia, watch out for John Bender! He's a trouble maker! He'll probably be gone in the morning with the safe!" Richard said.

Petunia tsked. "Pish posh!" she concluded. "All they need is a little attention and some TLC!"

"Good idea! Put them in front of The Learning Channel and leave 'em be! Maybe it'll be safer for us if they get addicted to TV now!"

"Richie, sometimes I don't know why I married you!" Petunia groaned, lighting the fresh candles placed in the candelabra. Richard sat down in his place and tucked a corner of his cloth napkin into the collar of his shirt. Petunia shuffled to the staircase and called. "Kids! Suppertime!" She then went to the other staircase that led to the basement and sub-basement. "John! Supper!"

"Welcome to the fucking Hotel Vernon!" Richard muttered under his breath.

Petunia, feeling happy and motherly, sat down at the opposite end of Richard and smiled as the first one entered the room. "Hello, Brian! Come on in and sit wherever you want! I made turkey with all the trimmings!" Brian looked at the array of fancy foods as he sat closer to Petunia's end of the table, putting his napkin in his lap politely. "Aren't you just a little gentleman!" Petunia remarked. She reminded Brian someone of a peppy little bird. He subtly moved his chair a few inches to the left.

Claire and Andy came down at the same time, studying the spread before them. Both of them awkwardly ignored Brian and sat down across from each other. Claire's eyes were red and bloodshot...but skillfully covered with concealer. Petunia smiled. "Claire, honey, you're such a beauty! You remind me of myself at your age! I bet you're popular with the gentlemen! I was too at your age, you know…"

"…aHEM!" Richard warned his wife.

"We can't eat until John and Allison come down!" Petunia said.

It was at least three minutes until Allison and Bender came into the dining room at the same time. Bender smirked evilly and sat down close to Richard, who gulped. Bender tucked his napkin into his collar too, mocking Richard. Allison awkwardly sat down next to Andy, who looked at her with interest. She didn't look at him.

"I'm a vegetarian," she said to Petunia. Petunia looked nervous, but just for a second.

"Oh that's okay! This isn't meat, it's turkey! Now everyone, dig in!" she cheered happily. Allison reached for the potatoes, and everyone began filling their plates. All Claire ate was the salad. Andy pretty much ate a full quarter of the turkey by himself. Bender purposely hummed while he ate. Allison put mustard on her potatoes and ranch dressing on her rolls. No one spoke, like Petunia had hoped. They just ate.

This wasn't a good start.

* * *

_5:22 PM_

Petunia had everyone settled in the basement and was getting ready to serve dessert when the phone rang. Richard scowled at Bender, sitting on the floor, picking at the puke-colored shag carpeting. His room was just down the steps…too bad he had to deal with "Getting to Know You" time!

Andy and Claire were tossing cards into a hat. Brian read a book, and Allison glared at the photos on the wall.

"Richie," Petunia said with a sad tone. "Your sister Marge is in prison again and needs us to go downtown and bail her out," she said woefully. Richard groaned and stood up.

"We're not gonna leave them…ALONE?" Richard said warily, looking around.

"They'll be alright for an hour," said Petunia, encouragingly. Richard groaned and turned to the jock and pointed. "YOU! You're in charge. No monkey business! Any tomfoolery and I'm cracking skulls!" Petunia and Richard left the house to go to Chicago.

They were alone. All alone.

Bender was the first one to move. "I bet old Marge Vernon is a prostitute! I bet she makes more cash than Dick does!" Bender pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with a lighter.

"Put that out!" demanded Andy.

"You gonna make me, Sporto?" asked Bender. "I've heard of you at school. You're a jockstrap with a weakness for tights!"

"Shut up! There's four other people here! Just because you've been drug-dealing in your foster parents' backyards doesn't mean the rest of us want to be here either!" Andy warned.

"I bet Cherry likes it here! It's good to be in a mansion just like at home, ain't it?"

"Leave me alone!" whined Claire. "I can't be here!"

"I bet your parents aren't even dead or fucked up! You're here because your richie parents are on a cruise, aren't they?" asked Bender.

"That's a lie!" Claire said.

"Guys, I think we should just turn on the TV and wait quietly until the Vernons get back," said Brian. He was ignored.

"You're knocking us because you've been in the system since birth and you're looking for pity!" accused Andy.

"Sporto knows it all!" Bender said, pacing the room and taking a drag of the cigarette. Allison gave barely-audible moan.

"Just shut up, prick! None of us want to be here!" Andy said.

"Seriously!" Claire added cautiously.

"Um, you guys, can we please not argue?" asked Brian. Again, he was ignored. Bender walked to a bookshelf and took out a book labeled "Huckleberry Finn."

"Is he related to Dingleberry Gill?" asked Bender sarcastically, opening the book and beginning to rip out the pages.

"Mark Twain!" Brian blurted out. "He's great!"

"You like Twain?" asked Claire with subtle interest. Brian nodded.

"Yeah!"

"Psh! You two gonna make out now?" asked Bender.

"Oh shut up!" Claire snapped suddenly. Bender pretended to be offended.

"I'm hurt!" said Bender, shredding a few pages at a time.

"Don't do that! You'll get kicked out!"

"Like I wanted to be here at all!" Bender snapped. "I'd rather be rotting in a gutter than being here with you dildos!"

After that quick outburst, the room was quiet for a long time. Richard and Petunia took longer than an hour, and Bender was getting antsy. Finally, he'd had enough. He went down to his room in the sub-basement and emerged with a few rolled-up joints. Andy gasped.

"Screw that!" he ordered.

"I'm not sharing, so don't ask!" Bender said, lighting up. Allison squealed. She stuck out her tongue and made a raspberry sound. Andy smirked in amusement. Claire and Brian looked at her like she was a freak.

"Can you blame me? There's not much fun in a house run by Bible-humpers," Bender said, taking a drag.

"I think all foster homes are like that," said Claire.

"How many have you been in?" asked Andy. Claire shook her head.

"None. I'm only here temporarily. My parents are in the middle of a divorce and they're having this monster custody battle over me and the judge said I should stay out of it," said Claire. "It's a drag."

"Is it really that bad?" asked Brian. Claire nodded.

"It's going to keep going for at least another half year. God, it's so embarrassing for me! I can't be pitied in school on Monday! I hope nothing gets out—"

"—because, your goddamn reputation is what every foster kid worries about!" Bender said. Claire bit her lip. Brian wanted the peace to be kept.

"I'm only temporarily in the system too," he said, changing the subject. "I took a flare gun to school last week, and my parents were charged with illegal possession of firearms. They won't go to jail, probably just a fine at most, but the trial might be awhile in coming," said Brian.

"Really? That's bad," said Claire.

"Will that affect your Home Etc grade?" Bender added. Allison couldn't take much more of it.

"What about you, then?" she snapped.

Andy smiled at her sudden decision to speak up. "You're so quick to kick the crap out of other people! Let's hear about your story, jerk!" he snapped. Bender gave Andy a threatening look.

"Fuck. You," was his reply.

"You guys, we all have to live together. We need to put up or shut up," said Claire. Allison took a deep breath.

"I'm not temporary," she said, licking her lips. Andy gave her a sympathetic look. Allison tightly crossed her hands over her chest. "I've been going places for three years," said Allison.

"I never knew that," said Andy.

"I got neglected at home, and they took me away," she continued. "I hated going to school because everyone at school thought I was retarded. I didn't bother telling anyone because I thought my foster parents world fix it."

"Did they?" asked Claire. Allison shook her head.

"No. I was just there to baby-sit the littler kids for them all," said Allison. Andy sighed.

"See that, Bender? She's braver than you are!" Brian noted, almost slyly. Bender put out his joint and reached for another.

"He's just hiding, he's not so tough. He's bullshitting us," Andy said. Bender grew slightly red in the face, but hid any distress.

"I don't see you trying to build any bridges, jagoff," said Bender to Andy. Andy gave Bender an indignant look.

"I'm temporary," he said. "My father always pressured me to be the best. One day, a neighbor thought my dad was abusing me, so I got taken away and my dad was arrested. He didn't do anything, but like…um…you…said," Andy said, uncertainly pointing at Brian.

"I'm Brian," Brian said.

"Yeah, like Brian said, the trial might be awhile in coming," Andy said.

"I guess we've all been kicked down by the system in one way or another," said Claire.

"Welcome to life, kiddies!" Bender said. "It's the real world! Everyone's out there to screw you over!" Bender flicked the unlit joint onto the floor. "This time last year I was playing my guitar, now I'm in the home of the world's largest Dingleberry and his wife: the human ass-kissing machine!"

"I think she's nice!" said Brian. "Many foster moms would just give us oatmeal and send us to our rooms for the night."

"She must have something wrong with her head, marrying Dick willingly," Bender remarked. "A lot like my mom. I always wondered how drunk she was when she said yes to my old man," Bender said.

"Why?" asked Claire sincerely. Bender looked at her closely before answering. She looked serious. Bender didn't want to give a lot away.

"My old man was a dope. He drank vodka like water," said Bender. "He got busted and I got deported from Hell: Level One to Hell: Level Two! I've been a goddamn prisoner for a year."

Andy rose an eyebrow. Brian did, too.

"You're an indefinite?" asked Brian. Bender nodded.

"Who gives a damn, in a year I'm free. I'll be 18 in December," said Bender.

"What about you?" asked Andy, looking at Allison. "How long do you have?"

"I'll be 18 in October," Allison said.

"You might be free before we are," Claire remarked. "Guys, I know we're really different, but we have to live here together."

"Yeah. Can we bear it? For awhile?" asked Brian. Allison licked her bottom lip.

"What about in school?" she asked. "Are we going to act like we're not foster siblings?"

"I don't see why we can't," said Brian. Claire shook her head.

"I don't want my friends to know I'm a ward," she confessed. "I can't be pitied!"

"Claire, can't you get over yourself?" asked Andy.

"It's not like that!" Claire protested. "I won't be respected anymore, and respect is all I've got! You have no idea—"

"Imagine going through that damn school everyday with NO respect!" Bender said through gritted teeth. "You'd fucking say you were a princess to get respect! Those jerks at school won't give a damn about you no matter WHO you were five years from now!" Bender began yelling.

"Andy?" asked Brian. "You? Will you pretend we're not living together?"

Andy was silent. Allison, hurt, turned away.

"You asshole!" Bender yelled. "I might as well be living with my parents!"

"Well what do you expect? All the pressure we get from our friends—"

"—if they make you feel pressured, they're not your friends," said Allison wisely. Brian smiled.

"Nice way of putting it!" Brian said. Andy felt stupid.

"You're right, I guess," he said.

"We can figure out what to do on Monday tomorrow," said Claire.

"Not with Mr. and Mrs. Smith around all day," said Bender. "I swear, if they start preaching on Sunday I'm out!" Claire chuckled.

"We can ditch them and come to my room," offered Allison. "I love the attic! I can see Chicago from there!"

Andy smiled. "Must be great at night."

"I'll show you if you want," Allison offered.

"After lunch tomorrow, we'll go up to the attic," Claire proposed. "Then we can duke it all out between each other once and for all."

"Until then, we'll play nice in front of the Vernons," Brian finished. Everyone seemed to nod in agreement. "Deal?"

"Deal," said everyone except Bender. Everyone turned to him.

"Yeah, deal!" he said. Suddenly, footsteps were heard on the stairs. Petunia and Richard returned, Petunia wearing a dopey grin and Richard looking like he swallowed a lemon whole.

"Finally, we have family time!" Petunia said, sitting down on a chaise. "Remember, we're all a family! You can say anything about yourself, and don't be shy! Just say something one-at-a-time!"

"I'm tired," said Claire, faking a yawn. In truth, talking with Richard and Petunia was the LAST thing she felt like doing. Bender shook an itch off his shoulder and silently went downstairs to his room in the sub-basement, hiding the lighter he still held in his hand. Allison headed for the stairs after Claire, but before mounting the first step, she turned and looked back at Andy, then went to her attic room. Andy went upstairs next. Brian looked at Petunia, who looked a little bit upset. Brian stayed put. He kind of felt sorry for her.

"We can talk," he offered. Petunia smiled. Richard began sniffing the air.

"Petunia…do you smell…SMOKE?" Richard said in between sniffs. Brian shot up.

"I have to study. Rain check until tomorrow on the talking! Good night!" Brian said quickly, shooting upstairs, leaving Petunia staring at her husband, bewildered, and confused.

* * *

_11:56 PM_

Allison was right. The night horizon over in the direction of Chicago was gorgeous, especially in the contrast to the darkness of the surrounding suburbs. Not to mention there were a few spotlights dancing around on the low clouded sky, looking like a special occasion was taking place in the city.

Today had been a bit confusing, and tomorrow would be no better. She knew that their meeting tomorrow would be hard. Bender would no doubt yell. Claire and Brian would probably cry a bit. Andy would act like he knew everything, and Allison would add her own commentary. It's just who they all were. But she had the feeling that if they fought enough, things would be sorted out just fine. Monday was a whole other story. So many doubts in one weekend! Allison sighed and decided to watch the view for awhile. The alarm clock on the nightstand told her it was near midnight. She'd survived a day. She could only imagine the stress, laughter, fights, and make-ups to come over the next few months!

"Ahem?" Allison shot around and saw Andy coming up the stairs to her room. She smiled. "Did you still want me to come up? Everyone else in the house is asleep…"

"Come on over," Allison invited. "It's great," she said, talking about the view. Andy sat down on the sill next to Allison. She was right. The view was nice over the city…almost haunting.

"What a day, huh?" asked Andy.

"Yeah."

"Five different species of human living as foster siblings, who have thought?" Andy remarked.

"We're all one species, Andy. We just have five different species of brains!"

Andy laughed at this. "You think we'll be okay?" he asked. Allison looked into his blue eyes with her brown ones and nodded.

"We'll be okay in the end, Andy. We'll be okay."

* * *

_**A/N: I know it's long and a little lame, please drop me a nice line anyways!**_


End file.
